


More Than Just My Soul

by noyin



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Also I Don't Know Any Latin So Please Forgive Me, Also Roman Is A Hopeless Romantic, Also This Fic Has Remus In It So Please Use Discretion, Alternate Universe, Demon!Deceit, Ghost!Virgil, Human AU, Incomplete But I'm Impulse Posting This To Gain Inspiration, M/M, Might Be A Little OOC But I'm Too Tired To Care At This Point, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Some Major Characters Are Dead But No One Dies On Screen, Sort Of Like The Main Character Of A Romantic Flick, vampire!Logan, witch!Remus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noyin/pseuds/noyin
Summary: Roman made a promise when he was younger. And somehow he ends up with his soul being sold to a demon...Not that Roman has a problem with the paranormal. His house is haunted by a ghost, his brother is a witch, and his neighbors are really weird, after all. And besides, the demon is totally his type, so what the heck.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Onesided Intrusive Thoughts | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 52
Kudos: 120





	1. The Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Price of Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18387398) by [SocialBookWorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialBookWorm/pseuds/SocialBookWorm). 



"Hey, Roman?"

"Yeah, Remus?"

"Do you think promises are forever?"

"Mm-hm. Of course I do."

"Okay, do you promise to keep all of your promises, no matter what?"

"I promise."

"Okay. Do you promise that you love me?"

"I promise I love you, Remus. More than anything."

"Do you promise you trust me? Do you trust me with your life, your _soul_?"

"Yeah."

"You have to promise, Roman."

"Okay, okay! I promise!"

"Pinky?"

"Pinky."


	2. There's A Demon In My House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!...or rather begins

It had all started when Roman realized his house was haunted.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't so much the start.

There had been so many incidents in Roman's life that he couldn't consider himself to be _normal_. A family of witches? Apparently that wasn't normal. Friends with the monster under his bed? Not normal either. Talking to flowers? Nope. Able to see to ghosts? Definitely not.

Granted, it took Roman a fair amount of his life to realize it wasn't _conventional_ to interact with the supernatural.

So, his house was haunted. Because of course it was.

"Virgil, for God's sake, stop levitating my fine china!"

Inside the glass cabinets, the stoneware floated back onto the shelves. The shadowy figure sat himself on the corner of the garnet counter, shoving his hands into the pockets of his patchwork hoodie. He let out a breath and put on a rather aggressive pout—despite this, Roman noted the subtle worry in the line of his brow.

"Sorry," Virgil mumbled. "Did you just say Remus was in town?"

Roman cradled the mug in his hand—tightly, for fear Virgil would unknowingly make it levitate into the wall. There was still a stain on the floral wallpaper from the last incident. "He's not that bad, Virgil."

" _You_ don't suffer from crippling anxiety."

"He mainly gushes about my neighbor and how I'm still single, he's not that bad," Roman said. His mug lurched. "Virgil."

"Sorry," Virgil said. "He's just so...freaking weird."

"He is." Roman sipped his tea. "Look, if it makes you feel better, you can hide in my room until he's out."

"It's not that I-! I'm- I'm worried you'll- he'll-!" Virgil huffed. "Nevermind."

"Is this about- Okay, the one time he hit me over the head with a mace was an accident."

"And then he burst into a musical solo about how crazy he was." Virgil snapped. "Was that an accident, too?"

"Hey, hey," Roman said, "It'll be fine."

"Will _you_ be fine, though," Virgil grumbled.

Roman smiled at his ghost. Never in a million years would he have thought the ghost that was haunting him would _care_ about him—despite his denial—yet, here he was. "Aww, you care about me."

A vase whizzed passed Roman's ear and shattered into pieces into opposite the wall. Roman flinched at the sound, then shot an unimpressed look in Virgil's direction. Though his face was ghastly and pale, a rosy hue was overtaking his pouty cheeks.

"No, I don't. Shut up."

Virgil disappeared into the wall without another word.

-

The weather quickly soured.

Roman was seated by his window, one which overlooked his neighbor's overgrown garden and the several houses beyond—the rain, however, brought about a curtain of fog which obscured anything beyond the vine-ridden picket fence.

The rain hissed loudly, almost drowning out Virgil's stomping and moaning in the attic, and spat through the window, bringing in the smell of dew.

Roman was watching his neighbor, Logan. At first glance, there was nothing unusual about Logan. He seemed like what a typical middle-aged history teacher would be; He was a bony frame with an ashen complexion, his only saving grace being his brilliant golden brown eyes which hid behind black Warbly Parkers.

Yeah, Logan was normal. At first glance.

Roman had only few interactions with Logan in the past. There was no doubt the man was knowledgeable on everything under the sun and he was clever to boot. But there was something about him, the way he would sometimes slip into eighteenth century speak and incorporated Latin in his phrases like it wasn't a dead language. And the way he only ever left his house at night or on rainy days.

Yeah. Totally normal.

Roman peeled his eyes away from his neighbor—he really wasn't doing anything weird, right now, only taking out his dog. Well, maybe the Victorian clothes were a little weird.

Another stomp and another moan came from the attic.

Roman pushed his chair back and marched his way up into the attic. His house was old; While most houses had ladders to get to the uppermost floor, Roman's had a staircase. He threw open the door, it made less noise that way, and headed up the stairs.

"Virgil?"

Roman peeked his head in between the railing following the stairs, spying Virgil who was seated in the chair by the stained glass window. Though it was very much still rainy, the rays of sunlight which managed to squeeze through the clouds collected in the room like dust and turned the air into a yellow hue.

"Virgil?" Roman repeated softly.

Virgil twisted around to see Roman. "Oh. Hi."

Roman eyed the mess which made up the attic, then back to Virgil who was looking back out the window again.

"You okay, Virge? I heard stomping and moaning again."

"I'm fine." Virgil was quick to interject.

There was a heavy silence between the two for a moment. Roman took in a breath and approached the ghost.

"You were thinking about it again, weren't you?"

Virgil scoffed, but his voice came out soft. "What does it matter?"

Roman knelt beside Virgil. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Virgil turned to Roman, livid. "You're sorry because I died? You're sorry because I don't know why I'm still here?" Virgil wiped his watery eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. "It's not your fault. So. Stop. Apologizing."

"I just wish I could help you," Roman said. He looked at the ghost, sadness swelling in his chest, and reached up to brush Virgil's pale cheek. And paused. And dropped his hand. _If only I could…_ "No," Roman said softly, "I don't just wish I could help you. I _will_ help you. I will, I promi-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Virgil said with a sniffle. "It's fine. It's fine, really. I'll just be stuck here. I don't care. Besides, who's going to look out for you if I'm not here, right?"

Roman smiled. "Yeah."

He didn't miss the way the corner of Virgil's lips tugged upwards ever so slightly.

-

Remus, being the incredibly subtle person he was, decided to make his entrance by nearly kicking down the door and screeching at the top of his lungs. Which, all things considered, was quite subtle, especially compared to the last time when he had hid behind Roman's television for a week before announcing his presence to a very unsuspecting Roman.

"I have good news!"

"Oh, God," Virgil moaned, shoving his palms into his eyes. "Not again."

"Hey, Remus. I'd appreciate it if you didn't break my door again, thanks."

Remus practically danced inside, his entire being jingling and clinking with the trinkets that decorated his black and green Tudor clothes—honestly, not the strangest choice of clothing Roman had seen from his brother yet. Remus dropped his bags on the ground unceremoniously before slamming the door shut. "I come in here with good news and what you care about is the _door_?"

Roman pulled his brother into a hug. "It's good to see you. Three months is too long."

Remus, as usual, smelled nostalgic—a perfect blend of cinnamon and costumes in a dress-up trunk. It reminded Roman of home and how much he loved his brother.

"I _am_ pretty amazing." Remus clapped his hands together. "So!"

"So? So, what?"

"Roman, I need to ask you something!"

"Go on."

A grin curled on Remus's lips. "Okay! You remember The Promise, right?"

"Huh?"

" _The Promise!_ The one we made when we were kids!"

"I don't like where this is going." Virgil interjected.

"Oh, come on," Remus said, pointedly ignoring Virgil, "You remember!"

"The, uh, one when I swore I loved you and I trusted you?"

"That's the one!"

Roman raised his eyebrows, partially in concern and curiosity. "That was ages ago. What about it?"

"Well, remember how you said promises were forever?"

"Obviously, you have a better memory of it than I do." Roman admitted with a titter. "But, yeah, I guess I do. Promises are important to keep."

"Great! Because I just wanted to let you know that a promise like that can be used in supernatural interactions!"

Virgil floated from his spot on the counter, hackles rising. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Exactly!...Oh, that was a question!" Remus giggled. "I think a better phrasing of that question would be, Hell is what that means."

"You. Are not. Making any sense." Virgil hissed, now coming in between Roman and Remus. "You better not have hurt Roman somehow, you creepy- uh- creep!"

Remus raised his arms. "I didn't!"

"Virgil, it's alright," Roman said.

"It's alright! Oh, sure, sure," Virgil grumbled, "Your crazy bother threatens to use your promise against you and it's fine!"

"I hope you know that you calling me crazy is not an insult." Remus shot back, then turned to Roman. "Hey, Roman, also remember how you don't have a boyfriend?"

"Yea-huh. I have no idea what that has to do with anything."

"Well, that's what this is all leading up to! The good news!"

"Coming from you, that does _not_ sound _good_ ," Virgil said, "Last time you said you had good news, it turned out you were stalking Roman's neighbor."

"I sold your soul to a demon!"

There was a long, heavy silence. Roman blinked as the words registered in his brain.

"You. _What_." Virgil said, but his voice was threatening murder. If a ghost could.

"You...sold my soul to a demon?" Roman asked, and tittered. "That's- that's- but why?"

"I sold your soul to a demon so that he could be your boyfriend for a month."

"A _month_?!" Roman squeaked, "Excuse you, but I think my soul is worth much more than just a month! And it's February!"

"No, no, no, Roman, you're worth so much more than a month. More than years. More than, hell, a century!" Virgil said quickly, than turned to Remus and screeched, "You _f_ _rea_ _king_ lunatic! Why the _hell_ would you do that?!"

"It's brilliant, isn't it? Roman's guaranteed a boyfriend for a full month! Like a- a magazine subscription!"

"But he can't _renew_ it, can he? And why would you do that to him? After a month, he gets his heart broken!"

Remus grinned. "Well, I don't see _you_ doing anything about it, Virgil."

Virgil snapped his mouth shut, but his eyes continued to shoot daggers.

"Wait, you're not joking?" Roman asked.

"Duh."

It took several moments for the reality to sink in. Roman couldn't pinpoint what he feeling on the inside, but it wasn't anger. He knew his brother's heart was in the right place.

It was situation that made him feel...uncertain. Dating a demon? What were the guidelines? Sure, Roman had his fair share of supernatural experiences, but having a haunted house was arguably very different than having a demon for a lover.

But, all things considered, Roman tried to look for the silver lining. Love, in all forms, was something he dreamed about, and Remus knew that. Maybe loving a demon for a month wouldn't be so ba-

"Wait, wait, wait, what happens after his soul is taken? Does Roman _die?_ "

Roman's eyes flicked to Remus.

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. I think it depends. I mean, since his demon boyfriend owns his soul now, he could choose to make Roman live with him in Hell as some sort of, uh, concubine? Or let him be free and soulless? I don't know."

"What?!" Virgil threw his arms in the air and turned to Roman. "You! Why are you not _freaking pissed_ about this?!"

"Give- give me a moment, Virge," Roman said. "I don't know what I feel. Can I- can I meet him?"

"Oh, my God, you really are a hopeless romantic." Virgil muttered to himself, utterly despaired.

"Mm-hm." Remus twirled to the door, clasping his hand over the knob and pulling the door open. "Ta-da!"

There, standing on the porch, was a dapper looking man. He was dressed as if from a period-piece movie; a black bowler hat, a black caplet which hung snug around his shoulders, a yellow and black blouse tucked into high-waisted tweed trousers, and yellow gloves which were really the cherry on top, the piece de resistance.

But what caught Roman's eye the most was his striking and beautiful visage—one side was of a man and the other of a serpent. The human side was soft and flushed, his brown human eye seemingly holding the answers to the universe. On the other side, his scales trailed from the top of his brow to his neck and surrounded his envy-green reptilian eye.

It was once their eyes met that Roman knew. He was completely and utterly fucked.

"Oh." Roman squeaked.

" _Oh_." Virgil wailed.

Remus had the biggest smirk on his face. "I just _knew_ he'd be your type."

The demon coolly strode over to Roman and offered his hand. Roman's mind, as if on cue, blanked. Roman looked to Virgil, who was, putting it lightly, furious. At least judging by the sound coming from the cabinets and how the vase on the table was starting to float.

Coming back to reality, Roman's eyes met with the demon's again. And his heart nearly lurched out of his chest. The blush was making him so light-headed. So, so slowly, Roman timidly placed his sweaty hand into the demon's.

The demon was obviously out to kill him already, or so it seemed, because without missing a beat, the demon pressed his lips onto the back of Roman's hand. And smirked.

"A pleasure it is to finally meet you, Roman," he purred in a voice that sounded too velvety to be real. "My name is Deceit, a Demon of Deception, as the name implies. I trust we'll be well acquainted by the end of the month."

Roman squeaked, " _What?_ "

"That's enough!" Virgil said and floated in between Roman and Deceit, swallowing their hands within his transparent body. "I don't care _what_ you agreed to! Leave Roman _alone_. Go away!"

Deceit pulled his hand back, but did not seemed fazed. In fact, he looked amused. "Oh, and you must be the ghost."

" _Virgil_." Virgil hissed.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, truly."

" _Whatever_."

Deceit flicked his eyes back to Roman. "If you would like me to rid you of this nuisance, I could certainly arrange that."

"What?" Roman blinked. "No, no, no, Virgil's my _friend!_ "

"Yes, that's what I said."

Virgil scoffed. " _Jerk_."

"Okay! Can I be honest?" Roman said, raising his arm.

Deceit smirked. "Sure."

"I have _no_ idea how this works."

Deceit hummed, lithely sliding beside Roman and caressing his cheek with a gloved finger. "All the more fun for me, then."

Roman felt blush flush his cheeks until it made him hot and dizzy.

-

There was a demon in his house. His brother had summoned a demon and said demon was in his house. His brother had summoned a demon and said demon was in his _haunted_ house.

Roman found himself seated at the kitchen table, his stare lost in thought as the reality of it struck him in the face.

His brother had summoned a demon and of course said demon was _incredibly_ and _undeniably_ charming. _Shit_.

But even more concerning than the current matter, the thought of what was to happen to him after the month was over sat heavy in the back of Roman's mind. Not only was this demon his boyfriend now, but Roman trembled at the thought of being forever bound to this ethereal entity.

Roman supposed, so far, Deceit showed nothing but unabashed flirting and softness, even. But it did not go unnoticed by Roman, that this demon has introduced himself as a _Demon of Deception_. That did not put him at ease. Not one bit.

Roman blinked out of his trance and flicked his eyes around the room, taking note that Virgil curled up in a tense ball on the counter and that Remus was nowhere in sight, and his eyes landed on Deceit.

The demon was pacing the kitchen with a deep curiosity.

"Is it alright?" Roman finally spoke.

Deceit, who was in the middle of going through the cabinets in Roman's kitchen, paused for a moment to look back to Roman with a blank look. "What do you mean?"

"Sorry- is it alright if I ask you questions?"

A smile curled on Deceit's lips. "My darling, you are free to speak to me as you wish."

Roman blushed. It did not go unnoticed to Roman how Virgil bristled.

"Okay. Well, I was just wondering-" _how did I get myself into this mess? The supernatural never seems to leave me be, not truly, then again, I suppose I don't mind_ \- "How does it work?"

"How does what work?" Deceit asked.

"Sorry- I meant, how did the promise work? Is that- is that, uh, legal?"

With a chuckle, Deceit closed the silverware drawer. "Well, promises themselves are not significant enough to use in the stead of a signature, if that is what you're asking. However, the promise your brother proposed _was_ bound to you, sealed through a specific ritual. What do the humans call it- pinky promise, I believe?"

"Oh. And that's worth something?"

"Everything is worth something, even words. Humans have yet to realize such a thing. What, you don't believe in promises?" Deceit countered, sounding amused.

"I do!" Roman said, thumping himself over the heart, "I honor my vows like a prince would his word!"

"And you already find me admiring your integrity, _Prince Roman_ ," Deceit purred, "Such a rare trait to find in humans these days."

"Oh." Roman blushed. The breathed. "So, I have another question."

"Go on."

"My soul- what will happen once you have it?"

"Well, the answer is simple, isn't it?" Deceit said dully. "You'll belong to me."

Roman proceeded cautiously. "And what, exactly, does that entail?"

"What sort of answer are you expecting?" Deceit asked, shooting Roman a curious look.

Roman shrugged. "I guess I'm just wondering what demons do with souls."

Deceit's eyes softened a little. "Right. You have no idea the value of souls. Well," Deceit brought his hand to his chin, "A soul possesses an indescribable amount of experience, emotions, memories, which is the source of its value. As a demon, I am only allowed filthy souls, the souls of _sinners_. And a soul which has lost its purity is only good for one thing; an eternal afterlife of suffering."

"But Roman hasn't done any wrong by anybody!" Virgil jumped in quickly, panicked. "You can't subject him to- to a sinner's punishment!"

"Ah, but I _can_." Deceit taunted, and Virgil was _this close_ to throwing hands, even if he was a ghost, but then Deceit said, "That does not mean I _will_."

"Oh, sure, sure, demon of _deception_. I trust you."

Deceit smirked. "Much appreciated."

Virgil clawed at his hair, about to scream—the rattling in the cupboards and even the windows was enough to know he was about to lose it.

"Okay! That's it! I'm going!" Virgil said, "And I won't be back until _he's_ ," Virgil pointed to Deceit, "gone!"

"But Virgil-"

"Whatever!"

And with that, Virgil was really gone—only in the other room over, but gone, no less. Roman smiled, knowing Virgil would likely come back in the next five minutes or so, as he usually did. Virgil never really did leave for long, even if he insisted he hated Roman's company and only stuck around because he had to. Roman, on the other hand, was not so resistant to say he enjoyed every moment with his ghost.

"Oh, whatever shall we do without you?" Deceit wailed, and just as he pulled open another cabinet, a ceramic mug flew into his face. Deceit smoothly sidestepped and let it shatter on the mustard-yellow linoleum floor. He clicked his tongue. " _How mature_."

"Leave him be, he just needs a little time." Roman said. "If you don't mind me asking-"

"I told you I don't."

"-why are you going through the cabinets of my kitchen?"

Deceit smirked, swinging the door shut. "Because I'd like to know the exact dimensions of this house. Because it's been so long since I've last been welcomed into a human's home. Because I would like to know everything about you, Prince Roman."

At that last comment, Roman could feel his cheeks freckle with blush.

"It's not fair that you get to make me feel all flustered on the inside with those- those cute nicknames!" Roman hissed, but his anger was fabricated.

"Then, think of something to call me, my darling."

Roman sunk into his chair, covering his bright red face. "Dear God."

Deceit grimaced.

"Do you want coffee?" Roman mumbled. "And I have cinnamon bread in that blue and gold tin."

Deceit coolly slid into the seat across from Roman. "Only if you would like. I don't need to eat."

Roman's face fell a little. "Oh."

"Apologies, my darling, I did not mean to upset you. I said I didn't _need_ to eat, not that I _couldn't_."

"Okay, well, then."

Roman's chair rumbled when he shoved it back and he made his way to the little nook in the corner by the fridge. He pressed the coffee machine to life and popped the tin open to retrieve the bread inside, and place it onto a plate. After gathering two cups and filling them with the bitter substance, plate of bread in hand, Roman marched back over to the table. He felt a little less jumpy after that.

Roman set the food on the table and put a cup of steaming coffee almost directly into Deceit's hands. Deceit's eyes dropped to the liquid, inhaling the smell of caramel and sugar, and he took a sip.

Roman observed him for a moment, and he was glad he did, because a moment after Deceit took a sip, it seemed as if he could no longer compose his face. Deceit grimaced, hacking almost, and set the mug down.

"I had forgotten how disappointing the taste of the coffee is to its smell," Deceit said with a bitterness.

Roman couldn't help it. Once his shoulders started rocking, he could not contain the laugh that bubbled in his chest, and he had to set his own mug down. Deceit, for once, looked sheepish. At least, for a split second.

Wiping the tears that were collecting in the corner of his eyes, Roman got up again. "I'll get the cream and sugar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is nearly 4k words of shameless Roceit and I hope you all enjoyed it :)  
> I have about 7k more words to spare for this fic


	3. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman accidentally invites his neighbor for dinner...  
> Chaos ensues as usual

Roman was not expecting visitors, but he sure as heck wasn't going to ignore it when Patton knocked on his door.

Patton was Roman's across the street neighbor and, the sweet thing he was, was friends with everyone around town. Easy to see why, who wouldn't like a neighbor that only came over with a tray of hot chocolate chip cookies?

Same as Logan, there was nothing unusual about Patton at first. He was a pleasant person, his speckled face framed also by Warbly Pakers—an inside joke between Logan, Patton, and himself by now—gentle eyes and an even gentler smile. And no fashion sense, whatsoever. The poor kid was probably only twenty-five tops, but dressed like a sixty year old dad. And had the puns to match.

But Patton also had a weird tendency to sniff often and compulsively. And there were times he simply _would. Not._ Come out of his house, even if Roman insisted. And he usually was the most social of all his neighbors.

But, Roman supposed, every neighbor had to have a quirk of some kind.

So, Patton was knocking on Roman's front door. Roman could see his warbled form standing on the porch through the crystalline window and he pulled the door open.

"Heya, kiddo!"

Oh, yeah, and he called everyone 'kiddo,' even though Roman was sure he was older than Patton.

"Hey, Patton!"

"Patton!" practically screeched Virgil as he descended from the ceiling.

"Hey, there, kiddo!"

"Oh, my _God_ , you angel, you brought cookies!" Virgil exclaimed. "The dusty smell was getting old."

Patton giggled, blushed, but said nothing else. Roman had a smile on his face as he closed the door, but his smile quickly faded as he noticed Patton standing stock still. Staring right at Deceit. He sniffed once, twice, three times. The air had never felt more tense.

Until, finally, Patton breathed. "Oh. Okay." Then, he beamed. "You have company!"

Deceit flashed a tight smile, but stood up and extended his hand to Patton. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance..."

"Patton!"

"Patton." Deceit repeated, narrowing his eyes.

Patton fidgeted. Virgil was not happy.

"Hey, if you're going to insult my friend, at least don't do it so blatantly!" Virgil hissed.

Oh, yeah, and Patton was Virgil's best friend in the entire world.

"I wasn't." Deceit snapped back.

Virgil turned to Patton. "Whatever, ignore him. He's a jerk."

"Oh. Okay." Patton paused a moment. "That's not a very nice thing to say, Virgil."

Virgil deflated slightly, muttering under his breath. "Sorry. Whatever."

Deceit only rolled his eyes.

"So!" Roman said with a clap of his hands. "What's up, Patton? Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, actually..." Patton trailed off, leaning to peer out of Roman's windows. "I stopped by because I saw that..." His big brown eyes met Roman's, a tad weary. "Your brother's in town?"

"Oh, yeah. He is."

"And I couldn't help but, uh, notice he was, uh, hiding in Logan's bushes?"

Roman nearly choked. "Again?!"

Just then, a second knock pounded against the wooden door, making Roman jump. He hurried to the door, catching a glimpse of a tall, pale man through the crystalline window, and pulled it open. In front of him was an unamused Logan, who held tightly by the elbow a shameless Remus.

"Salutations-"

Roman blinked. "Hi?"

"-Pardon if I skip through the pleasantries, though it is nice to see you, Roman. And Virgil." Softer, he said, "And Patton."

"Hi, Logan..." Patton said meekly, blushing.

Remus scowled.

"Sup." Virgil two-finger saluted.

"Nevertheless," Logan cleared his throat and pushed Remus forward. And attempted to smile. "I stopped by because I found your brother in my shrubbery again. This is rude, if not downright insulting. I would appreciate it if my privacy continued to be respected."

"Oh, right, yeah- Remus, get in here- of course, I'm sorry about that," Roman said, smiling sheepishly.

"As you know, I wouldn't want a repeat of the events of '92, Danvers, Massachusetts." Logan continued, pacing near the doorway.

"Right. '92." Roman repeated. Though, if he was being honest, he had no idea what Logan was talking about when he brought it up. And he brought it up quite often.

Logan went off. "Neighbors turning on each other! Prejudiced trials! Bringing religion into the courtroom! Witch hu-"

Then, he stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth slightly agape. It was only then that Roman realized he was looking directly at Deceit. His eyes narrowed.

"Daemon."

Deceit grinned. "Salve, nosferatu."

Logan stood completely still, his golden eyes studying Deceit _very_ closely. Slowly, he spoke, "Well, I better go. I have concluded my business here-"

"Wait! Don't you want to come in?"

Again, Logan stilled, but this time he looked as though he had been smacked in the face.

" _He doesn't know_." Roman thought he heard Deceit mutter. Then, Deceit stood up sharply and Roman could feel that something was very, _very_ off. "Roman, my darling," Deceit said as he looped his hand around Roman's elbow. "Logan has somewhere else to be."

"No," Logan said, "What did you say, Roman?"

Deceit hissed. "Don't make him repeat himself."

"Do you want to come in?" Roman repeated, even so.

Beside him, he could hear a growl emit from Deceit's chest. Roman shook his elbow free and Deceit relented.

Logan looked wary. "Are you sure?"

Roman's nose crinkled. "What do you mean, am I sure? What kind of question-? Of course, I'm sure."

"You've...never invited me into your house before."

Strangely, it sounded as if Logan was trying to remind Roman of the fact.

"Yeah?"

As if he was about to walk into a live fire, Logan took a step through the doorway of Roman's kitchen. And stood there. And smiled a little.

"Okay. Please be expecting me later this evening."

Logan whirled around and fled the house before Roman could even say anything. Roman shrugged and closed the door. He turned around and was met with a displeased Deceit.

"You have no idea what he means by '92, do you?" Deceit asked.

"No idea. Why, is it important?"

" _1692_." Deceit said. And nothing else.

" _Shit_." Virgil muttered.

Remus grinned. "The plot thickens."

And Patton- Patton looked pale, and also guilty. Roman was, well, confused.

"I- I'll- I'm going," Patton said, "Thanks for having me over, though!"

Patton, too, was gone before Roman could say something. _Sheesh, everyone's acting so weird_ , Roman thought.

Roman turned his eyes to his witch brother, his ghost and his demon. Then smiled and shrugged.

_W_ _hat else is new?_

-

"Disney. You love Disney." Deceit said. Standing in front one of the one hundred and one Disney posters that covered up the cracking beige walls of Roman's room. Deceit pointed to two of them, situated in the corner. " _Nightmare Before Christmas_."

Roman was lying on his stomach on top of his bed's duvet, watching Deceit take in the clutter in the room— _his_ clutter. He swung his legs and rocked his head which rested propped in his palms like a pearl in a clamshell. "Those are Virgil's. My most treasured ones."

Deceit ran his hand along it, with the tenderness Roman was sure a demon couldn't possess, and yet. "I can tell. Objects hold memories, you know."

Roman's brows shot up. "You mean- you mean you can see the memories? In the objects? Do you see Virgil?"

"Yes," Deceit said with a chuckle. "Yes, I do see the memories. I do see Virgil. And the love you have for these mere _pieces of paper_. It's- it's frankly quite fascinating. Humans will create ties with everything."

"You mean demons don't?"

Deceit fell quiet. "Not really. Demons- well. Demons are immortal." Deceit said. "Nothing lasts as long as forever."

Roman furrowed his eyebrows. "Promises?"

"Sometimes."

"Friendship?"

"Yes, I-I suppose-"

"Love?"

"Alright, alright," Deceit chuckled, "I stand corrected. There _are_ some things that last forever." More solemnly, he added, "But nothing of _mine_ has ever lasted as long as I have."

Roman cocked his head. "Nothing at all? How- how old are you?"

"Older than I care to remember." Deceit said, "Enough about that, though. I'd like to continue to go through your things, if you don't mind."

"I don't." Roman said. And continued to swing his legs. "As long as you tell me what you see."

Deceit's hand gripped the frayed pages of a book strewn on Roman's bookcase, so worn the cover had torn off and Roman never bothered to tape it back. By now, the cover was long gone. After a moment, Deceit looked over his shoulder, grinning. "As you wish."

"Ah, yes. My favorite book." Roman said.

"I know, my darling," Deceit said, "And it's a fine piece of literature. _The Princess Bride_."

"You've read it?"

"I've had all the time in the world to read millions upon millions of books, darling. Of course I've read it."

Mostly silence befell the room again as Deceit continued through the trinkets, the only sound being the slight creak Roman's bed made when he swung his legs—Remus had jumped on it years ago and completely broke the slats.

Deceit hummed in interest when he came across the garb of white, red, gold, and glitter slung over the back of Roman's desk chair. He picked it up tenderly, smiling.

"A prince costume?"

Roman pouted and blushed, pointing to him. "No teasing!"

" _I wasn't_ ," Deceit purred with a grin. Falling silent, his eyes raked over the soft fabric and the crudely sewn designs. His fingers rubbed the patch on the shoulder.

Roman said, "What...do you see?"

"Happiness." Deceit replied. "Love. You truly adore your brother. Despite everything."

Roman snorted. " _Despite everything_. Of course I love him."

Deceit smiled and returned it back to its rightful place on the chair, handling it as if it was made of glass. "Are you upset? That he took advantage of your promise?"

Roman froze for a moment. "I don't think so. He wouldn't have done it without a reason."

Deceit looked over his shoulder to Roman, one brow cocked up. "But he sold your soul to me. I wouldn't take that so lightly."

"But it's...it's just me," Roman muttered, eyes downcast. "I should be thanking him, really. I get someone to talk to and an experience." Roman laughed, shrugging. "I'll be a human without a soul! How many times have you met a human without a soul?"

Deceit stayed silent for a moment, then smiled. "Yeah."

Roman's stomach dropped, as if he had said something wrong. But, Deceit turned back and continued through Roman's things. He stood by the radio beside Roman's desk.

"Ugh, this _reeks_ of teenage angst," Deceit said. He held up a CD, the offending object pinched between his thumb and finger like it physically smelled. "Quite obviously, this is Virgil's."

Roman laughed.

"It's not funny!" Deceit snapped.

But Roman kept on laughing, and Deceit couldn't hold back a chuckle, and merely shook his head as he put the CD back in its rightful place.

"On a more serious note, why _do_ you have Virgil's things?"

Roman's laughing quelled, his noise replaced with an expression of thought. "Well, Virgil lived in this house before he died. So, when I moved in-"

"Instead of getting rid of his things, you decided to keep them?"

Roman shrugged, but nodded.

Deceit's eyes went back to the CDs. "He feels joy."

"Huh?"

"Virgil. He feels joy that you kept his things," Deceit elaborated. "And that you are there to keep him company."

"You got all of that from the CD?" Roman blinked.

Deceit smirked a little, serpentine eye gleaming. "Yes."

"Oh. Well," Roman said, quiet, "I'm glad. I don't know what I'd do without him. He's more than just my best friend. He's so important to me."

Deceit kept his eyes on Roman. "It's admirable how close you keep them to your heart. From experience, humans are selfish, unloving creatures, but you-" Deceit paced closer to Roman, reaching to place his palm over Roman's cheek, but-

"PUT IT OUT! PUT IT OUT!"

Deceit flinched back and Roman leapt to his feet. Just as Roman was about to make for the door, Deceit caught his elbow in a vice grip.

And growled. " _Fire_."

And that's when the smell of smoke punched Roman right in the nostrils.

"Shit, they're burning down my kitchen."

"What a brilliant idea it was to let your brother and a ghost cook dinner for our anticipated guest."

Roman threw the door open, flew down the stairs, and rushed into the kitchen, skidding to a halt for the scene in front of him: Remus cackling maniacally as flames raged on the range and Virgil huddled on the counter top on the verge of a panic attack. Deceit was already there, somehow.

Roman was about to make for the fire extinguisher—but before he could even take another step, Deceit snapped his fingers and the fire petered into a pitiful puff of smoke. The only thing that was left was a pitiful pan of flambed salmon, cauliflower, and rice.

Deceit glared at Remus. Naturally, Remus grinned. "What? I wanted it to cook faster!"

" _That's not how that works, you freaking insane moron_." Virgil hissed.

"Well, you didn't _stop_ me, so."

"I _can't_."

"Hey, hey, hey!" Roman shouted, pointing to Remus. "Can you please stop setting fires in my kitchen on purpose?"

"Bold of you to assume I can be that responsible." Remus countered.

Roman rolled his eyes. "Virgil?"

"Yeah?" Virgil's voice was tense, but he seemed to ease at the sound of Roman's voice.

"You okay, buddy?"

Virgil shifted, the tension slipping from him ever so slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. As long as your crazy brother doesn't kill us all."

"If I did that, it would definitely be intentional."

" _Not comforting_." Virgil hissed.

"It's okay, it's okay! The crisis is adverted. Thank you Deceit, by the way-"

"At your service, my prince."

"-so now all that we have to do is cook dinner agai- wait-" Roman's jaw froze and blush flushed his cheeks. After a moment, his squeaked, "What did you say?"

"Nothing, darling." Deceit purred.

"Let him breathe, will you?" Virgil growled.

 _Oh, right, I need to breathe_ , Roman thought to himself. Slowly, painfully, Roman inhaled a deep breath. And exhaled. But the blush. Would. Not. Go. Away.

Coolly, as if his brain hadn't short-circuited two seconds ago, Roman said, "As I was saying, we need to cook something else. We can't serve this to Logan."

"Uh, technically, we _can_ ," Remus said.

"Okay, we _shouldn't_ serve this to him," Roman said, shooting Remus a pointed look. "This time, _I'll_ cook."

Tying an apron around his waist, Roman got to scraping the burnt meal into the trashcan—Roman had a moment to lament the expensive fish—and to starting something else.

Deceit was suddenly hovering behind him, his body barely pressed against Roman's back, but his hands were holding his shoulders and it was getting really hot, really quickly.

"Is there any way I can assist you, Roman?" As Deceit spoke, in his rich velvety voice, Roman could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

Roman squeaked.

"I, uh- I guess I- um- If you could- uh- start on the, uh, chicken," Roman stammered, a hot wave of blush turning his face into a tomato.

Deceit chuckled. "As you wish."

As Deceit started on the chicken, cheeky smile on his face, Roman took a moment to cool his burning cheeks. He whirled around and busied himself with picking out ingredients, which proved to be a good distraction; _Onions, lemon, cilantro, and garlic would be nice,_ Roman thought.

But as soon as he picked a knob of garlic, it was plucked out of his hand by gloved fingers.

"Hey!" Roman exclaimed, "I need that!"

Deceit tutted, shaking his head. "You invited Logan, remember?"

"What does that- c'mon, give me the garlic."

"As long as you don't use it," Deceit said, though he was already handing back the garlic, anyway.

Roman held the bulb in his hand, staring at it. "Why?"

"I'm honestly surprised you don't know-"

"Don't know what?"

Deceit merely smiled. "Just don't use the garlic."

Virgil huffed. "So, we're not going to tell him that Logan is-"

Then, Virgil went completely silent. Roman glanced over his shoulder to his ghost.

"Virge? You good?"

Virgil's jaw was agape for a moment. Then it snapped shut. Virgil shot an icy glare in Deceit's direction. "Okay, so we're not telling him the truth, then? Got it."

"Okay! What is happening?" Roman demanded, throwing the garlic down on the counter as threateningly as garlic could be thrown.

"I don't want to put him in danger," Deceit said softly. "Ignorance _is_ bliss-"

" _Falsehood_." spoke a fourth voice.

Roman yelped and spun around. And was even more shocked when he saw Logan standing nonchalantly by the open window.

"Logan!" Roman exclaimed. "You're- did you-" Roman's eyes flicked to the window. "You came in through the _window_?"

"I was invited?"

"Logan, what-" Roman put a hand to his head. "Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. You just came in? Through the _window_?"

"Yes. It was open." Logan cocked his head. "You would prefer for me to use the door?"

"I mean- I'm not going to stop you, but I don't want, I don't know, to get sued if you get injured climbing through my windows."

Logan smiled tightly. "I see. Well, you may be at ease. I never get injured."

"Never?" Roman laughed. "You sound so sure."

Confusion flashed on Logan's face for a moment. "Perhaps because I am."

Roman blinked. Logan blinked.

"I cannot physically get hurt," Logan said slowly, "With a few exceptions, of course."

"Can't get hurt, likes to climb through windows, and allergic to garlic. Huh. I'm learning a lot about you, Logan."

"As I am with you," Logan said, "You are oddly accepting of my unconventional ways, Roman. In fact, you barely even question it."

"Logan, I live with a ghost and my brother is a witch, and you know this," Roman said. "Is there something to you that I'm not getting?"

"Oh, brother, you're as thick as ever," Remus teased.

"Shut up," Roman said.

Logan cleared his throat. "I suppose I assumed you would've known by now, given how familiar you are with the supernatural," Logan said. "Well, even so, I'm sure you've noticed some odd happenings at my residence."

"I mean, yeah."

"If not you, then your brother certainly has," Logan said, glaring at Remus.

"I have." Remus only grinned.

"Okay, well- here, let me take your, uh, cape. Make yourself at home. Dinner will be ready in a second, but I think I have some coffee left from this morning, if you want a drink."

As Logan busied himself with settling in, Roman tried to make sense of the prior conversation. Obviously there was something to Logan Roman was missing, but _what_ , that was the question.

 _Supernatural, Logan said_ , Roman thought to himself and he hung the cape on the coat rack. _Logan. Supernatural. Why do I feel like I would not be surprised?_

Roman strode back into the kitchen—to Logan, Remus, and Virgil who were having a conversation why Logan would not just _marry_ Remus already. Roman returned to the counter and began to cut up the vegetables, occasionally stealing a glance at Deceit and admiring how downright attractive it was a see a demon doing something so mundane like cooking. And humming. Oh, god, he was humming, too.

Face flushed, Roman decided it was for the best not to keep on staring at Deceit—who had a knowing smirk on his face, damn him. He had to stop staring, if not for the fact that he felt like he was about to pass out, then for his fingers about to get nicked by the kni-

"Goddammit." Roman hissed.

He brought his hand to his face, pressing into the small cut until blood began to bead and drip down his fingers. He hadn't noticed three things: Deceit was suddenly at his side and he was holding Roman's hand, that the room had gone incredibly silent, and that Logan was pressed up against the wall, looking paler than before, if possible.

"Are you alright?" Deceit asked.

"Yeah," Roman said, wincing. "It's nothing. Just a small cut, that's all."

"Damn it, Roman," Virgil said—but he wasn't upset at Roman, and Roman could tell. Virgil was _extremely_ anxious. He floated beside Roman, but he could do nothing but watch as Deceit tended to the wound.

"It's just a cut, Virgil, I'll be fine." Roman said. He almost reached to caress Virgil's face, _again_ , but stopped himself short of doing so. It was cruel he could do nothing to comfort Virgil.

" _You'll_ be fine, but," Deceit said, but he was looking over Roman's shoulder, right at Logan, "is our guest faint at the sight of blood?"

Logan eased, but not by much. "No. No- but I- I should go. Posthaste."

"But you just got here!" Roman said.

"I know, but you- you cut your finger. There's blood a-and I- I can't be around blood." Logan covered his nose, screwing his eyes shut. He braced himself, as if he was about to get hit. "I'm a _vampire_ , Roman. I'm not human and blood _makes me turn into a monste_ _r!_ "

Roman blinked.

"Oh."

If anything, Roman wasn't _surprised_. _Of course my neighbor's a vampire_ , Roman thought, _It would've been surprising if he wasn't_.

And at least everything made _sense_ now. The garlic, the invitation, the blood. Roman was about to smack himself in the head for how utterly oblivious he had been and the only thing literally holding him back from doing so was Deceit's grasp on his hand.

Logan looked as still and as pale as a statue made of marble. His hand never left his mouth, almost as if he was afraid he would absolutely _lose it_ at any given time. Which was very possible. His eyes were fixed on Roman and the blood dripping into Roman's palm, after all.

 _Well_ , thought Roman, _th_ _is is certainly not ideal_.

"Bathroom, now," Roman said.

Roman was pulling Deceit with him as he fled the kitchen, away from the poor vampire struggling to hold himself back from sinking his teeth into Roman's throat. Roman shoved himself and Deceit into the bathroom and shut the door.

"There's no reason to worry, you know," Deceit said, coolly, as if Roman hadn't come this close to death by vampire. Deceit brought Roman's wrist to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss right where his veins pulsed. "I wouldn't let him touch you."

Blood rushed to Roman's cheeks and he gaped, trying to find the right words, but all he could think of was, _this kind of shit only happen_ _s_ _in movies!_

Deceit grinned, modestly ignoring the fact he was the culprit to Roman's rosy cheeks and opting to focus on Roman's cut. He inspected it, dabbing a ball of cotton doused in alcohol on top of the wound. Ever so often, his eyes would flick over to Roman's, checking to see if he was okay. Roman was swooning.

"You're not concerned?"

Roman stiffened. "Should I be?"

"No, no, of course not," Deceit said, "It's just that- that you're very brave. You embrace the unusual, even being the one bleeding in a room with a vampire."

"To be fair, I didn't know he was a vampire up until now," Roman said.

"It's just peculiar, that's all," Deceit said, "Humans are fragile. They know of their mortality. But _you_...you have a certain disregard for that. For the fact that, say, I'm a demon and could easily overpower you. I don't understand why you aren't afraid." Deceit stroked his cheek, gentle, loving. "You fascinate me."

"Because I don't have a reason to be afraid," Roman said.

Deceit's eyebrows furrowed and remained silent for a moment. He turned to rummage through the cabinets. "I would like to hear your explanation."

"You guys aren't _monsters_ ," Roman said, "You guys are my _friends_."

Deceit paused. His serpentine face angled slightly to Roman, then, he smiled. "Right."

Roman narrowed his eyes.

"You're lying to me."

Deceit pulled a bandage out of the bathroom's cabinet. His eyes flicked to Roman's cut. "I am."

"Well-" Roman scoffed, "What makes you think you're not my friend? My _boyfriend_ , for that matter?"

"I never said that," Deceit said, "What convinces you that I am not a monster?"

Deceit wrapped Roman's finger with the adhesive fabric, smoothing its edges from wrinkles before finally letting Roman go from his hold. He looked back to Roman with an inquisitive stare.

"I'm listening."

"A monster probably wouldn't bandage my finger." Roman pointed out.

Deceit rose a brow. "What if I'm only trying to take advantage of you through chivalrous acts based on my knowledge you have an appreciation for Disney princes?"

"Then you wouldn't admit it," Roman jabbed back.

Deceit huffed, clearly frustrated. "Yes- yes, well- you're wrong."

Roman lifted his chin, lips pouty. "I promise you, I am not."


	4. He Can Only Hold Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman bonds with his demon in the middle of the night like any normal person would

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title based off Amy Winehouse because that's the vibes I've been getting, does it work with the story, who knows? :)

"So, 1692?"

It was getting late. A certain drowsiness had overcome the evening and made Roman's home feel comfortable and warm. Stonewear was splayed out on the tablecloth that had once been white, dishes dirty but empty. Remus was nearly falling asleep on Logan's shoulder—on purpose, and Logan clearly knew this and ignored it. Deceit was doing the evening chores, clearing the table and starting on washing up, but would ever so often stop to flirt with Roman and touch him in in places that weren't intimate but felt like it anyways.

Logan had settled from the incident earlier, but his hands fiddled with the tie around his neck from time to time. A nervous tick, Roman guessed.

"Does it worry you that I am a vampire?" Logan asked, "You're not going to, say, drag me to the nearest church to have me burned at the stake?"

Roman laughed and shook his head. "Speaking from experience?"

Logan cracked a small, hesitant smile. "No. Not really. My mother's, in fact. She- this was after I turned- she was, um, prosecuted at the Salem witch trials in '92, actually."

"Was she guilty?"

Logan leaned back on his seat, crossing his legs, eyes narrowed. "Of witchcraft? No. They just got suspicious. It was unfortunate timing."

"Do you remember her?"

Logan's face was unreadable. "I remember everything." Logan stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. "My mother lived in England in 1565. When she got sick with the plague, my father turned her to save her. He was shortly found out by the church and burned at the stake. She lived in hiding until she fled from England to America as a stowaway on a ship headed to the colonies in 1620. She lived in Salem until the witch trials. And then she was tried for witchcraft and..." Logan's eyes turned downcast and rapidly filled with tears. "She didn't do anything wrong. I guess they- they just decided they didn't like her."

"Good times," Deceit muttered.

Logan wiped the tears from his eyes. And with a deep breath, he composed his face. As if nothing ever happened. "Well. That's enough about that. There's little point in dwelling on what can't be changed. That, I've learned throughout the years."

"Hm. Big mood," said Virgil.

At that moment, Logan's head turned to him with an audible snap, a look of complete bewilderment on his face. "Come again?"

Virgil's eyebrows knitted. "Big...mood?"

Roman was just as confused.

Logan's jaw worked for a few moments. Then he spat out, "What in _heaven's name_ does _that_ mean? Hold on- don't tell me yet." Logan pulled out a feathered quill and a piece of paper from the pocket of his pinstripe vest. "Go on."

"You- you want me to define it?" Virgil asked.

"I do, yes."

"Well. Uh. It means- shoot, uh, Roman, how would you describe it?" Virgil asked, clearly flustered.

"It means that Virgil agrees with you to an intense degree," Roman said.

"Interesting..." Scribble, scribble, scribble. "So, say, for example, if something depressing happens in the media, I can use the term 'big mood' to relate to said depression?"

Roman and Virgil looked at each other, both their lips pursed and their cheeks puffy with laughter.

"Yeah, I guess you could," Roman said, unable to hold in a chortle. "Why- what are you doing?"

Logan adjusted his glasses. "Gathering data as to what's cool with the kids these days. You have _no idea_ how often lingo changes throughout the course of a half-century."

Deceit let out his own laugh, nearly doubling over where he stood at the sink. " _Big mood_."

For once in a while, a smile broke over Logan's face, but this time, Roman could tell—maybe by the way his golden eyes glittered or how his cheeks seemed to grow rosy, somehow—it was genuine.

"Thanks for doing the dishes."

The dishwasher rumbled to life as soon as the door clicked shut. Deceit pulled the yellow rubbed gloves from his gloved hands—strange, Roman noticed—set them aside, and smiled to Roman.

"Peanut butter! Is the _bane_ of my existence! When it's in the sink," Roman said.

Deceit chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Well, then, I'm glad I'm able to save you from the torture of washing knives of peanut butter."

Deceit strode over to Roman and smoothly snaked his arm around Roman's waist, pulling him close. Roman breathed out, his head spinning. He looked up to meet Deceit's eyes—now up close, he had the chance to fall in love with them again. The deep brown that almost looked black like a galaxy and the green that pierced his soul with a pupil the size of a needled, both framed by soft lashes. God, he was really pretty. And really close.

All Roman had to do to kiss him was tilt a little. And maybe tippy-toe.

_Wait- KISS?!_

"Uh!" Roman jolted himself out of his own thoughts and stumbled backwards, but Deceit still held him, saving him from a graceless fall. Roman felt his cheeks grow hot and he knew he couldn't pretend he wasn't blushing.

Deceit grinned. "Many apologies, my prince. Have I made you flustered? Not my intention."

"You! Liar!" Roman smacked him across the shoulder.

"It's true!" Deceit continued, laughing. "I promise!"

"You're rude and terrible, you know that?" Roman whined melodramatically. "How could you? Do you not know mercy? Look! At how red my cheeks are!"

"I'm liking what I'm seeing, that's what," Deceit growled, "You dramatic little thing."

"Okay, okay!" Roman pushed Deceit's face away. "Let me go! You've done enough flirting for the month!"

Deceit did let Roman go, but Roman knew that even if he begged, the flirting wouldn't end there.

"So, the bedroom, then?" Deceit asked, eyebrows wiggling.

Roman stilled and—he didn't know if it was possible—felt his entire face burn. To that, Deceit laughed.

"I meant because it's getting late. You're likely _exhausted_ , my dear," Deceit said, "What, were you thinking of something else?"

"You! Know!"

Deceit just laughed and scooped Roman up in his arms. Roman squealed at this, throwing his arms around Deceit's neck. Deceit cradled him to his chest, one hand under his knees and the other on his back. Roman found himself flustered, _again_ , when he realized just how close Deceit was holding him. Gosh, Deceit really was pretty. This time, Roman found himself admiring the scales that decorated his face. They glistened green and white in the shifting light, almost making Deceit look like he was made of silk. Deceit smelled strangely nice, too, like expensive cologne reminiscent of a smokey bar in the 1960s. Roman unintentionally turned his nose into Deceit's shirt, finding a strange comfort in his scent and warmth.

Suddenly, Roman was lowered onto something plush and soft, and he realized he had to let go of Deceit, unfortunately.

"There," Deceit said, "Do you need anything of me before going to bed?"

Roman had to take a moment to think of an answer that wasn't _kiss me goodnight_.

"No," Roman said instead. Much to his own relief and disappointment.

Deceit raised an eyebrow.

"Where will you be?" _Y_ _ou can stay here with me_. "The sofa downstairs in the living room is comfortable. Or anywhere is fine, as long as it's not the attic. That's Virgil's area."

Deceit smiled a little. "Well, I'll be wise not to poke that bear, as fun as that sounds. The living room it is."

"Okay." Roman couldn't help but feel frustrated, even being the cause of his own problem. He was tempted to open his mouth again, to just tell Deceit he wanted him to hold him close some more but- "Goodnight, Deceit."

"Goodnight, Roman."

And in the blink of an eye, Deceit was gone.

Roman stared at his ceiling for hours. Or, what felt like hours.

His mind was thinking too much. That was a common occurrence by now, really. Roman was convinced his thoughts and ideas were deliberately tormenting him, keeping him up until he answered the call of his muse. Even though he was exhausted and tired and had important things to do the next day. Creativity didn't understand the concept of time, it seemed. It was no wonder where his insomnia came from.

It was already two in the morning and all Roman could think of was Deceit. His thoughts were out to get him, Roman was sure. He couldn't stop thinking of Deceit's pretty eyes, his hands holding him, his breath on the back of his neck. It made Roman shudder.

And that's when the idea popped in his head. And Roman knew it was a bad idea from the start. But Roman knew he wouldn't be able to ignore.

He threw the covers off of his legs and hopped out of bed, onto the woolly rug that entwined in his bare feet. He felt like a child again, sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night with Remus to do something mischievous. Well, it was almost like that, in reality. Roman was going downstairs to find Deceit, hours after wishing him goodnight. Because he had something on his mind, something he could not ignore. Roman decided he wouldn't not be able to fall asleep without a kiss.

It was strange—Roman would've reserved his first kiss until he felt the moment was right. He always imagined a romantic outing at the beach, right at sunset- or! At the park, under the twinkling stars, where the air was humid and the night echoed with the sound of laughter.

But things were different for Roman when his boyfriend was a demon and he only had a month to act like it. Roman needed to take all the chances he got, for fear he would not be able to experience them. He didn't know why he thought so direly—there were still twenty-seven days, counting the two hours already passed. He just wanted to kiss Deceit so badly. Right now.

Roman stalked to the living room, tracing the source of the warm light that pooled into the darkness of the house. He first peered into the area to see if Deceit was, in fact, present and Roman was relieved—and nervous—to see that he was.

Deceit was stretched out on the sofa, one hand playing with a loose string in the upholstery and the other gripping a book, which, judging from the cover, looked like a niche book Remus had given him for his birthday at one point.

As soon as Roman stepped into the living room, Deceit's eyes shot up from the words in his hand and settled on Roman. He set the book on the nearby coffee table.

"Roman?"

"Hey."

"It's very late, my dear. Is everything alright?" Deceit was speaking softly, in a charming sort of way.

"Can't sleep," Roman mumbled.

Roman then none too gracefully stumbled to the sofa and plopped himself right into Deceit's lap. Without thinking much—Roman was beginning to worry if he even had more than one brain cell—he buried his nose into Deceit's collar and rested his hands on his chest. A purring sound rumbled in Deceit's throat. Deceit's hands found their way around Roman again.

"I lied earlier," Roman said, muffled by the fabric of Deceit's shirt, "But I think you knew that already."

Deceit chuckled softly. A hand stroked Roman's cheek. "I did. What was it you wanted?"

Roman looked up from his spot curled up in Deceit's arms, tired brown eyes peering through lashes.

"Could I- May I- Might I have a kiss?" Roman asked, in a voice barely above a whisper.

Deceit's eyes turned soft. "But of course, my love."

Roman tilted his head a little, eyes glued on Deceit's lips for a moment, but too shy to get any closer. Deceit's breath was shallow with anticipation, but he remained completely still. Waiting.

Roman's heart was pounding in his chest.

Ever so slowly, Roman closed the gap and pressed his lips in a feather light kiss against Deceit's. The kiss was...soft. In the sort of way that made Roman feel all fuzzy and loved on the inside. It wasn't anything like he expected his first kiss to be—then again, what _was_ he expecting, some kind of dramatic fanfare, confetti, and wedding bells in a distance? But no—this was a thousand times better, Roman decided.

Deceit's lips felt foreign on his own, but so _right_ at the same time. Roman settled into it, feeling confident enough to shift on top of Deceit in experimentation. Deceit allowed it, one of his hands raking through the locks of Roman's hair and the other comfortable on Roman's waist.

Deceit kissed back, clearly and quickly getting lost in the kiss, wanting more and yet- he was gentle and patient.

But the building tension was overwhelming to Roman. He pulled back first, as much as he was reluctant to do so. Deceit let him.

Roman couldn't decide what people did after they kissed. He had always thought he'd see the stars in his lover's eyes, full of love and light, and completely overcome with a euphoria.

And Roman had to give it to himself, he was absolutely right.

The way Deceit looked, the way Deceit looked at him—it made Roman's heart soar. He buried himself into Deceit's arms, squeezed his eyes shut, and wondered if he was dreaming.

Because it was then that he came to some sort of epiphany. He had fallen in love with Deceit. _Hard_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! sorry for the long wait, I had this chapter already written out but since the next one is only halfway done i held off on posting it. But i have no impulse control so here you go ;v;


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